Midnight Snack
by Katie of Gryffindor
Summary: After a long night of Quidditch practice, a snack is necessary. But he gets more than he bargained for. (slash)


****

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. I only play with them. :-D 

__

Warning: Slash. Guy-Guy action. You've been warned. Don't cry at me later.

****

Midnight Snack

By Katie of Gryffindor

He was starving. After a long evening of Quidditch practice, he couldn't stand the lack of food any longer. One might ask why he didn't eat dinner, or why he was out so late. 

Well, as Quidditch Captain, he decided that practice was much more important than food. And to answer the other matter, he had practiced so hard that he lost track of time and was now _quite_ out-of-bounds. Being eleven forty-six pm, this young man was wandering the school grounds far past curfew.

Another query may come to mind. Why was he alone? 

__

Damn teammates. Think food and sleep are more important than beating the enemy? Puh. Wankers. The seventh-year finally heaved open the doors to the castle and stepped inside. The cool spring night was closed out as the heavy doors slid quietly back into place.

The teen meandered off toward the kitchens. Knowing people in high places for so many years was a very big plus about being who he was. He was told about the entrance to the kitchen ages ago by a pair of sly, and often hungry, friends.

He reached the kitchens in no time at all and reached out a finger to tickle the pear in the painting. The green fruit giggled among its compatriots and the doorknob appeared.

He entered the kitchens and was immediately bombarded by a short something wrapped around his legs. 

He looked down at his knees. _Dobby. Of course._ "Hey Dobs. I've got the munchies. Do you think you could help me out with that?" The teen patted his stomach as a visual aid for the elf, who scurried off without a word. The Captain grinned to himself. _That elf must be half asleep. Otherwise, he's sick. He's never been silent. Ever._ A smile spread across the boy's features as the small creature came scampering back with a plateful of sandwiches, a pitcher of pumpkin juice and a clean glass.

"Thanks, Dobs, old buddy." The teen gathered up the provisions from the elf's hands and turned to leave. 

"You is welcome! Anything I can be doing you!" cried Dobby the house elf, happily. "Whatever I can be doing for someone as good and kind as you-"

The teen cut of the elf's stream of babbling. "Do you mind if I take this back to my room? I need to get changed out of these clothes." 

Dobby nodded fervently. "Of course, sir! I is just going to wait till morning when I is cleaning up your bed sheets, sir, and then I will collect the plates!"

The boy was already halfway out the door, and not really listening to his short companion. "Whatever you want, Dobby. Thanks!"

"I thanks you! Good night!" The painting covering the entrance to the kitchens slammed closed at that moment, stopping the small elf from saying anything else. The tired teen started back toward his dorms. But he was rather exhausted, so he veered off course and steered himself into the closest classroom. 

He walked to the teacher's desk right inside the door, and plunked his spoils on the desktop. He looked around him and lit one of the wall-mounted torches with a wave of his wand. Then he began to climb atop the desk to enjoy his late-night meal. As his backside was about to rest on the wood next to his food, he heard a voice.

"Malfoy?"

His blonde head snapped up and his sapphire eyes snapped to the doorway. 

"Potter."

__

Why am I not surprised. The Slytherin now perched on the desk shook his head at the intruder. "Dear me, Potty. I thought you would be all tucked in your bed by now."

The raven-haired boy smirked. "Really. You thought about me, huh?"

"Not really. Just making conversation." The blonde shrugged, picked up a sandwich and took a big bite. He looked back at the boy still in the doorway. Potter was staring at the plate of sandwiches hungrily. Draco raised an eyebrow and swallowed his mouthful. "Would you care to join me?"

Potter's eyes snapped up to meet Draco's. "You're joking, Malfunction. Why would I want to join you?" Draco smirked. He saw Potter lick his lips as the emerald eyes found their way back to the pile of sandwiches. 

Draco waved his partially devoured sandwich in thought. "Hmm. 'Malfunction,' eh? That's a new one." 

"Yeah," said Potter, his eyes following the flapping bread, salami, and cheese. "Just thought it up a couple days ago. Been waiting to use it."

Draco's lips curled more, almost in an actual smile. He caught himself in time and just managed to sneer instead. "Ah, so you think about me when I'm not around, do you?" He took another bite of the sandwich in his hand.

Potter shook his head. "Not usually. That just came to me out of nowhere." 

Draco raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Alright then. Well, are you going to just stand there and stare down the bloody sandwiches, or are you going to drag your ass in here and have one?" The blonde smirked again as the black-haired boy looked back at him calculatingly.

"I'm really not all that hungry," started Potter. Just then a gurgling erupted from the boy's stomach, betraying him. Draco snorted.

"Oh come off it, Potter. Just come here and eat."

Potter finally stepped into the room. Draco moved over to make room on the desk. Potter hopped up cautiously, as though Draco was going to hex him any second. _I suppose after the last six years of not trusting me, it would be a bit hard to stop now._ The Gryffindor sat on the edge of the desk, his legs swinging in front of him. 

"You know, Potter, it would be more comfortable if you just scooted back a bit." Draco's mouth twitched as he almost smiled at the boy again. He managed to restrain his lips from curling to the grin that was fighting to free itself. He picked up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and handed it to Potter. "Here."

Potter eyed the sandwich wearily. "How do I know you didn't put some kind of potion into that?"

"Grow up, Harry. I didn't even know you would be down here, did I?" asked Draco. Suddenly, his brain registered what had just fallen out of his mouth. _I just called him 'Harry.' Oh fuck. I wonder if he caught it._ The Slytherin looked up at the Gryffindor. The emerald orbs were now twice their normal size. _Yep. He caught it._

"Wh-what did you say?" stammered Harry.

"I didn't know you would be here," said Draco simply.

"Did you call me 'Harry'?" The black-haired teen started at the blonde.

"Isn't that your given name?" asked Draco. "Or did you suddenly change it to something hideous, like 'Rumpelstiltskin'?"

Harry gaped at Draco some more. "No," he said finally. "I was just surprised. You never call me 'Harry.' "

"Things change." Draco thrust the peanut butter and jelly sandwich into the still-gaping Harry's hand. "Eat."

Harry slowly took a bite. The pair sat in the quiet, munching on their sandwiches. Draco felt parched then, so he poured himself some pumpkin juice. He downed half the glass. Then his sapphire eyes rested on Harry, who looked like he could use some juice himself. Draco offered the glass to Harry. Harry looked at the glass as though it was poison.

"What now?" asked Draco, frustrated.

"You just drank from that." Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Are you worried about swapping spit with a Slytherin?" teased Draco. He smirked at his yearmate. "Besides, I only have one glass. I wasn't expecting company."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the blonde and took the glass. He raised it slowly to his lips and took a small sip. 

"There, was that so hard?" asked Draco.

"Hush up, Draco."

Draco smirked. "See, that wasn't so hard either, was it?"

"What's that?" asked Harry, before taking a bite of another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

"Calling me 'Draco,' " said Draco bluntly. Harry slowly nodded in agreement.

Draco smirked and grabbed another sandwich. The pair of enemies lapsed into silence once more. Draco's eyes traveled to the tanned face next to him. The eyes were unfocused and trained on a far-off spot through the window. The rosy lips were curved gently into the shadow of a smile. Harry must have felt Draco's eyes on him then, as emeralds were turned to sparkling sapphires. 

"What?" asked Harry softly.

"You've got a bit of something…" Draco motioned to the corner of his own mouth. 

Harry's tongue snaked out and licked at his lips. It swept past the smudge of peanut butter several times, missing it each time.

Draco sighed. "Come here." He leaned in, taking Harry's chin in his fingers and turning the Gryffindor's head ever so slightly. Draco set about licking the creamy smudge off the soft skin beneath with the tip of his tongue. When he was satisfied with Harry's cleanliness, he straightened, freeing the tanned chin from his pale fingers.

The raven-haired boy's eyes had grown to the size of tennis balls. "Wha-?"

"Told you there was something on your face, didn't I?" asked Draco.

"Well, yes. I-I suppose so," stammered Harry, not meeting Draco's eyes. Draco smirked again and went back to his sandwich. Harry followed suit. Again, silence reigned.

Finally, Draco swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. He looked at Harry, who was now staring at him. Draco raised an eyebrow. Harry didn't look away for once. 

"What's wrong now, Draco?" asked Harry. "Is there more on my face?"

Draco smirked. "Yes," he said, taking Harry's bait and leaning in again. "Just here…" Draco's tongue followed the curve of Harry's bottom lip. He could feel Harry's breathing slowing as he did so. 

Then Draco felt a hand reach up and into his hair. The Gryffindor pulled him closer and their lips crashed together. An uncultivated power surged through Draco as his lips met Harry's. The rosy lips separated and Harry's tongue escaped. The two tongues twisted and sought refuge in Draco's mouth. Draco tasted the pumpkin juice and peanut butter still lingering on Harry. 

Draco soon found his tongue getting massaged by Harry's. A moan escaped Draco's throat, which served only in encouraging his former nemesis. The two tongues fought for dominance, alternating between the two mouths from whence they came. 

The once-idle hands were now flitting over the undiscovered terrain beneath them. Harry pushed Draco flush against the desk below them and climbed on top of the Slytherin, taking care to not disconnect their lips.

The two teens lay on the desk for a long while, exploring the new feelings stirred within themselves, and the new bodies to which they were suddenly granted access. Their lips parted only for that bothersome biological need for oxygen. 

After an hour of exploration, Harry pulled out of the embrace. Draco whined quietly and tilted his head to the side questioningly. Harry sighed.

"I'm going to be missed," he said. Draco nodded.

"Me too, I suppose." The boys sat up and straightened their robes. Draco looked at Harry. "Erm, Harry?"

"Yes, Draco?" 

"What are we now?" asked Draco quietly.

"We're- Um. Good question," said Harry.

"Yes, I thought so," said Draco, smirking.

Harry's features twisted in thought, as did Draco. Then Harry turned to Draco.

"We're enemies," said Harry. Draco's face fell, but Harry continued. "Enemies with benefits."

Harry winked at Draco, who smiled back. Harry's jaw dropped. The smile disappeared as Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I just never knew you could smile," said Harry finally.

"Oh, there's a lot you don't know about me," said Draco coyly. He winked. 

"I'm sure." Harry jumped down off the desk. "Well, we had better get out of here before Filch and that damnable cat of his come nosing around."

"Quite right." Draco leaned in and captured Harry's lips in one last kiss. Then he gathered up the plate, pitcher, and glass. He started toward the door. When he was about to leave, he turned back to Harry. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Draco."

Draco wandered back through the halls of the castle, seeing things in a whole new light. He smiled to himself as he walked through the Slytherin common room and finally entered his dormitory. He set the dirty dishes on his desk, taking care to make as little noise as possible. But the clink of glass on wood caused the occupant of the nearest bed stir.

  
"Is that you, Draco?" asked Vin Crabbe, sleepily. "Where were you? It's almost two in the morning."

"Oh, I was just needed a little midnight snack."


End file.
